


All Caught Up

by missmamamoo



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, im a slacker I know, including my plot for this ship lmao, some things never change, totally not a batcat week prompt that I never posted XD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-09-03 00:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmamamoo/pseuds/missmamamoo
Summary: The grown adventures of Bruce and Selina post the fall of Gotham. Though a lot has changed, somethings just don't.





	1. Chapter 1

Selina twirled once more in front of the mirror. She admired the handcrafted dress she had stolen from Pearl's Boutique on the corner of 32nd and Maple. Its sequins and beads caught the light perfectly, mimicking a starry night on a bed of dark velvet. She smiled at its twinkle, posing once more in front of the mirror. It was functional with its high slit and short length. She could make a run for it if it was necessary.

Not that it should be.

Today was a social visit. She needed to learn how to mimic the elites of Gotham. She studied books at the library to get her words right and occasionally practiced with Barbara or Tabitha to ensure she was correctly pronouncing her new complicated vocabulary. She spent hours obsessing over wines, art, and performances. Today was her final test. Could she truly go to an Art Gala and fit in?

“Kitten, how long will you prance around in that thing before you leave?” Barbara said, leaning on the doorway.

“I’m ready, I’m just waiting for the cab to call,” she replied, pinning another stubborn curl back in its place.

“You should’ve left your hair down,” the blonde droned, sipping from her drink. “It's much sexier.”

“Yeah, well I was sure all the prim and proper folk at the event would have a problem with my mane,” she countered.

Barbara laughed, “Darling, art galas can have the most ridiculous stunts. I once saw a lady come to a gala with feathers shooting out of her hair. Trust me, you look too tame, but do as you please.”

“How bad is it?”

“Selina, you look like new money.”

“Dammit,” she huffed, unpinning her hair.

“Wait!” Barbara called out setting her drink down. “Let me try.”

Selina watched her release some curls and re-part her hair. She turned to Selina’s vanity digging around her drawers. She heard a tub open with a snap and panicked as Barbara approached her with a brush.

“I’m not going to hurt you calm down,” she said dabbing the tub gently with a brush. “You’ve got pretty eyes; you have to know how to show them off.”

She heard the phone ring briefly as she admired Barbara's handiwork in the mirror.

“Selina, your cab’s her,” called out Tabitha from the first floor.

* * *

Selina smoothly passed through as a young man's date. She had seen him at previous events and he never seemed to mind her company. They had an amicable discussion of the different art that was being showcased at the Gotham Institute of Fine Arts. She name dropped an up and coming artist and the man was pleasantly surprised at her knowledge of such a name. She smiled sweetly and mentioned her friend ran a gallery in the city for some time. They bumped into his friends and they all eyed Selina like a prize.

One spoke to her aimlessly about her beauty, the other commented on her knowledge of fine arts. She frowned and said it was her passion. She enjoyed studying antiquities and modern art was finally taking a turn to her liking.

“You mentioned you studied abroad,” smiled the blonde with the Rolex. “Where?”

“Switzerland,” she lied with a coy smile. She recalled a school Bruce had gone off too for some presentation. “Zürcher Hochschule der Künste”

“You speak German?” asked the brunette with the diamond cuffs. His smile wasn't reaching his eyes anymore. Something was up.

“Enough to get by,” she giggled, quickly recalling all the French and German she read up on in the public library. “There were a lot more English speaking students than you think. I did learn both French and German while I was there.”

She let out a sigh, “I wish I would have picked up more Italian.”

All three men looked at her confused. Her “friend” spoke up once more, “What family do you come from again?”

Selina felt her own smile shrink a millimeter. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, it's just I've only ever met you at parties. I don't think we've even exchanged names,” he held out the hand with the family crest ring. She glanced at his hand, then shook it.

“Irena Dubrovna.”

Selina had enough of their foolishness. Whatever she took, she knew they wouldn't miss. So much for a social debut. She snatched his bracelet without having any of them bat an eye. This was going to be easy. She was weighing her options of possibly scoring a bigger prize for this evening. The biggest social disaster was going to get to the party and if he was the loud and boisterous party boy she remembered him being; she was in for the loot of a lifetime.

The group of three exchanged jokes with her and she let out a breathy laughter making sure her one hand rested at her chest distracting the brunette as the other hand palmed his cufflinks.

She heard a jubilant shout and her audience became very distracted on what was going on behind her. She watched them step away from her, murmuring about the crazy Wayne boy.

He wasn't a boy anymore, she thought. At 25, Bruce Wayne was definitely a man. She turned to see him surrounded by a sea of women. Their eyes met from across the crowd. She gave him a shit-eating grin, excusing herself from the pricks she used as a cover. She made a beeline to the painting she would love to see hanging in the dining room.

She shouldn't have lied to herself about coming here for a social debut. Who cares? She wouldn't have Bruce distracting an audience like that until he decided to come home for good. She should take advantage of it. Her childhood friend still rained blessing in her life even though they stopped speaking after the fall of Gotham.

She stepped into the exhibition sighing at the sight of her prize. She walked around the painting noting the alarms and hairline triggers it had. She assessed the security cameras and their positions, along with any motion sensors in the room. She counted her steps from the painting to the conveniently placed skylight.

It was like the universe wanted her to have that painting.

She smiled triumphantly, silently running through her inventory back home. Selina could quickly leave and get back before the event ended. Crowds were great places to hide and she still had her invitation thanks to her little friend. It was doable.

She turned to meet the man of the evening herself.

“You knew I'd follow you,” Bruce grinned, clearly drunk even though he had just gotten there.

“That pickup line is getting old, Brucie,” she glared.

“What did you do?” he said, struggling to keep his hazy gaze on her.

“Nothing, Bruce,” she said coldly. “You can check the room. I wanted to see this painting before I left.” She walked up to the painting once more. “Isn't it beautiful?”

He took his time to stand next to her, no doubt scanning the room for missing items.

“It is rather unique,” he commented, disbelief clear in his eyes.

“Well,” she breathed. “I better get going; enjoy your night.”

He caught her wrist. “That's it?”

Selina couldn't help herself. She gave him a wink, “No, this is just the beginning.”


	2. Chapter 2

Against her better judgment, she waited until the party was over. She traded her dress for a new suit. It was originally a gag gift from Tabitha but she loved it for its function. Even with the stupid cat ears, the helmet was quite useful. She pulled down her goggles letting the smell of leather and plastic fill her senses. She climbed onto the fire escape feeling the thrill of the night flow into her veins.  
  
Selina ran across rooftops, her throat burned from the cold night air. She prayed it wouldn’t freeze, one misstep on black ice and no helmet would protect her from that fall. She tucked away her worries, focusing on her prize.  
  
She landed neatly onto the rooftop, the goggles allowing her to see any alarms not visible to the naked eye. Tabitha pulled through. Every single item she had gifted Selina had a purpose. The possibilities for tonight were endless.  
  
She got to the skylight and used her charge rider on a nearby power grid. Inspecting the skylight, she used one hand to create a suction on the glass while the other used a diamond claw to cut a neat circle in it. She carefully removed the glass, thrilled to see the powerful suction and grippers her gloves had. She toyed with the idea of using them to scale buildings but that was an activity for another time.  
  
She attached a grapple to a nearby pipe and slowly descended. The charge rider guaranteed her five minutes. The cameras should be showing a disturbance of frequency. Not enough to alarm, which was the benefit of stealing in Gotham. Power outages were still common in the city.   
  
She expertly cut and tacked the hairline trigger to the wall. She managed to cut the frame of the painting allowing her room to wiggle the canvas free from its prison. She rolled it up delicately and stuffed it into a storage tube. She strapped her prize to her back and checked her watch. She had a minute left. She climbed up the rope, scrambling onto the rooftop. She began to reel in her rope, letting out a hiss of satisfaction escape her lips as she checked her time. She beat her own previous record. She felt a tap on her shoulders and nearly jumped a whole foot in the air.  
  
“Good Evening,” said a distorted voice.  
  
Selina swore, making a run for it. She heard the creature behind her’s boots crunch in the snow.  
  
She quickly found out that it was a male. A very large male. With a cape. Gotham's freaks never disappointed.  
  
“Leave me alone,” she screeched, making a run for the Prescott building. She had made that landing as a 14-year-old, but a lot had changed. She ran full force hoping that the masked individual was not stupid enough to follow her.  
  
But the weather was not on her side. She felt ice hit her boot when she made the ledge; the whole world turned upside down.  
  
The buildings looked beautiful from this angle, she thought.  
  
  
A sturdy arm wrapped around her and she felt the tug of gravity yank both parties down. They crashed through the building's glass and into an abandoned suite.  
  
After a few rolls and misplaced elbows, she somehow managed to land on top of him. She looked at his ridiculous outfit and laughed.  
  
“Aren't you a bit too old to be trick or treating?”  
  
“You're one to talk Catwoman,” he retorted, pushing her off.  
  
“Hey, the helmet is functional,” said Selina, dusting off her suit.  
  
He shook his head and gestured to the window. “You could have died.”  
  
“But I didn't,” she quipped, stepping into his personal space.  
  
“Is a painting worth your life?” came the distorted rebuttal. He didn’t seem to mind their closeness. She took it as consent and laid a clawed hand on his shoulder.  
  
Selina smiled coyly, flicking his stupid pointed ears. “In the eyes of many, my life is not worth much.”  
  
He reached his arm over her, grabbing the tube strapped to her back. “I will let you off with a warning. This isn't worth your life.”  
  
Selina studied the man before her, noting his stance. His breathing was starting to pick up and she could feel his hands brush her hips.  
  
He lacked restraint, she noted. He was pent up. He had to be. There was no other explanation for the insane suit he wore. She placed her arms around his neck and felt him freeze. He did not protest nor attempt to remove her arms. His costume was the clear idea of a testosterone-driven mind; it was the Gotham male equivalent to peacocking. His armor had muscles, for Christ's sake.  
  
Selina gathered her bravado and smashed her lips with his. She used her claws to dig into his armor, ensuring he felt her hand go south. She heard him groan and she grinned. She pushed him against the wall. His surprise was apparent even through the mask. She sauntered towards him, with a throaty laugh. He made an attempt to speak but she quickly quieted him with her own lips. She wasn’t shocked he was responding enthusiastically, but his disappointment was going to be something she would savor for the next few weeks. It had already seemed like most of his blood had already left his brain. Any rational thought remained clouded by his own desire. She'd be lying if she said she never picked up a thing or two from Barbara. Men could be reduced to putty with the right words and touches. She just prayed that the guy wasn’t armed and wouldn’t try to kill her like some weird kink. She began to slow down savoring each nip and suck he gave her. She let him go and cradled his head.  
  
“My hero,” she whispered, peppering his jaw with kisses. Selina plucked her prize from his relaxed hand and swiftly clipped her climbing rope to the back of his belt. She then slapped his ass, gleefully running out of the window. With his bruised ego he's less likely to notice she attached him to the furnace. She heard the whip of the grapple followed by cursing. She cackled at his foolishness, knowing once he cut the line the chase was on again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's not longer! Constructive criticism is welcomed! night y'all.


End file.
